Sweet Unrest
by LovedLik3WildFire
Summary: The unthinkable happens, and there was nothing either of them could have done to stop it. Secrets are exposed, discoveries are made, and chaos lingers. Henry and Jo are going to need one another now more than ever, but will their relationship be able to handle the madness before them?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Tears burned in his eyes, blurring his vision. Though his sight was less than perfect, Henry could see clearly the blood pouring from her chest. And no matter how much pressure he put on the wound, nothing could stop the fear from seeping into Jo's eyes. She looked like a child trapped in a nightmare. But this wasn't a nightmare; this was very real, and there was nothing he could do to ease her fears.

Death was coming.


	2. Chapter 1

A soft breeze rustled through the trees as Detective Jo Martinez examined the body before her. They had received the call this morning, of a young man around the age of twenty-three found dead in Central Park. From the brief report they received, the man had been lured into a more densely wooded area of the park, where he was stabbed once in the heart. She suspected, if not for the fellow park goer who loved exploring, it would have been some time before they found him.

"Can you give us an estimate of the time of death?" Jo asked, watching as Henry Morgan rose from his position over the body. Henry arrived to the crime scene prior to Jo and Detective Hanson, which was a surprise to both of them. And when they finally appeared, he began giving them an elaborate story of the precision of the wound and why it was the perfect spot for almost instant death. Thankfully, his story ended as Hanson began asking him various questions about the body. It wasn't until Jo spoke, however, that Henry looked up.

He smiled at her. "I can, Detective. Our John Doe was killed around thirty six hours ago. I can give you a more accurate time when we get him back to the lab."

She had expected this answer. Henry never liked to guess when it came to details involving a murder suspect. Science was not a matter of guessing, but of fact. The words rang in her head like a declaration. That was one of the things she appreciated about her unofficial partner; he took his job very seriously.

She nodded once, turning to Hanson. "We need to figure out who this man is. Would you mind starting on that? There is something I need to take care of."

"Sure," He said, pausing. "Is something wrong?"

Jo sighed, letting the weight of the morning cover her. "I woke up this morning to find that I had no hot water. The repair man is coming over this morning to take a look at everything, and to figure out what's wrong. I shouldn't be gone more than an hour or two, so I'll be ready to help with the investigation then."

"Take your time," Hanson responded. "Henry and I can take of things until you're finished."

"Of course we can," Henry said, agreeing. "No rush, Detective."

She hesitated slightly, hating to leave them. While the two men were perfectly capable of continuing the investigation without her, she didn't like being out of the loop. An hour or two could mean the difference between life and death for another person, especially if this wasn't a one time kill. The sound of a car horn stirred her out of her thoughts. If Jo didn't leave now, she might not have hot water for a second morning, and she wasn't letting that happen.

* * *

Henry watched as Jo disappeared from sight. Ever since Jo arrived at the crime scene, he thought she seemed out of sorts. She was on edge, like the littlest thing could topple her over the side and down into anger. And while having no hot water was quite a nuisance, it didn't seem like something to get upset over. Maybe he would ask her about it later, but now it was time to work.

"I'll ride back with the body," Henry said, looking over at Hanson.

"Sounds good," He said. "I'll see you back at the precinct."

They went their separate ways, and before either of them realized it, the morning was already over. Their John Doe was yet to be identified, which was an annoyance to Hanson. He had done all he knew in his power to find out the identity of this man. Fingerprints came up as a blank, as he was nowhere in the system. There was no driver's license or any form of identification on him at the crime scene, and the crime scene techs swept the area thoroughly. It would seem their victim would remain a John Doe for another day. Meanwhile, Henry was hard at work in autopsy.

Since the body was wheel in, he had spent his entire morning combing over it; looking for clues to the poor man's death. Just as he suspected, the stab to the heart had been an almost instant death. Much to his surprise, there was only one stab wound, so the killer knew what they were doing. There were no other marks suggesting a struggle. In fact, there were no marks at all. If there was no visible wound, Henry would have said he died of natural causes.

"Did you hear what I said, Henry?"

Henry looked up from what he was doing, to see Lucas standing on the other side of the autopsy table. "I'm sorry, Lucas. What?"

"I said, 'Should we do a blood test?'"

He nodded. "Absolutely. Though I highly doubt anything will show up unusual."

Lucas's eyes widened. "Are you...are you guessing, Doctor Morgan? The Dr. Morgan, a man of science?"

He rolled his eyes. "You'll find I rarely guess about anything, but I do make hypotheses. And since we're testing the blood..." His voice trailed off as a look of embarrassment colored Lucas's face. He did his best to withhold the smirk. "Send it out, Lucas, and we'll see what the results say."

Just as Lucas turned to walk out of the autopsy room, Hanson made his way in. "Hey, Doc. How are things going down here?"

Henry smiled at the Detective. "Very well. It would seem our victim was indeed killed by a single stab wound to the heart, but we're running blood tests just to be sure the stabbing wasn't a cover up for something else." He paused a moment. "Have you found a name yet?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I'm kind of at a loss. If Jo were here, she would know what to do."

Henry's head shot up. "Detective Martinez hasn't returned yet?"

"No, and I have no idea where she is. I tried calling her cell, but she isn't answering."

He nodded, pulling off his gloves. "I'll try finding out where she is."

Hanson laughed. "Alright; maybe she'll answer for you. She likes you more anyway."


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello Lovelies! This is going to be short chapter, so hopefully, I can upload another chapter sooner than I usually would. I want to thank you all for your support; it seems you all liked that intense prologue. :D**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Talk to you soon!**

* * *

Jo fidgeted in her seat, as she peered out the cab window. The repair man had been at her home for an hour and a half, fixing her hot water heater. Apparently, the heater was on its last leg. Sean would have known about that. Thoughts of her husband trickled into her mind, and sadness swept over her. It had been some time since her husband passed away, but the thought of him still pained her. Some days were worse than

others, but it was in those moments where she had nothing to do that the sadness came rushing at her with debilitating speed.

"Come on!" The cab driver yelled, pounding the steering wheel. "Move it!"

Jo smirked slightly, but covered her face with her hand so he wouldn't see. They had been stuck in traffic for around forty-five minutes. At first, they both seemed relaxed, knowing traffic was inevitable in the city. But as the clock hit 11:30am, their patience was wearing thin.

"I'm sorry, Miss," He said, looking at her through the rear view mirror. "I hope you don't need to be somewhere soon."

She sighed. "Actually, I do. But it's not your fault, so there's no need to apologize."

He nodded and focused back on the road. The car in front of them inched forward slightly, sending a wave of hope through Jo. However, hope was quickly extinguished as the person slammed on their breaks. Just as she was about to whisper a few choice words, she felt the buzz of her phone in her pocket.

It had rung several times while she was with the repair man, but she ignored it. Whoever it was could leave a message, if it was an emergency. Now, she was free to answer. Pulling it out of her pocket, she took a quick glance at the number. The letters MEO flashed across the screen, and she frowned.

"Henry?" She answered. "Is everything alright?"

"I was about to ask you the same question, Detective."

She rolled her eyes. "You never call my cell phone, so something must be wrong."

He chuckled softly. "You are right – something must be wrong, because it's almost noon and you still haven't returned." His tone shifted from playful to serious. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Jo responded with a sigh. "Getting back to the precinct is taking longer than I thought it would. I'm currently sitting in a cab, waiting for traffic to let up."

"I see," Henry said with a pause. "While you wait, would you like to hear what our John Doe has to say?"

She perked up at the given name of their victim. "Did you find something?"

"He was, indeed, killed by a single stab wound to the chest. It went straight through his heart so death was almost instant. But the most interesting part," He said pausing for effect. "is the lack of markings on his body. Apart from the stab wound, he has no other laceration or contusion anywhere."

"He knew his attacker then."

"It's quite possible, but until we find out who he is, we cannot know for certain."

Jo frowned. "Hanson hasn't found out who he is yet?"

"No, unfortunately not."

That was an unfortunate turn of events, indeed. She had hoped they would have an ID on the victim by the time she returned. The thought made her even more anxious to return to work. Looking out her window, she saw the entrance of Central Park, where she had come in early this morning. An idea popped into her mind.

"I assume the crime techs are done at the scene?" Jo said to Henry, as she flagged the taxi driver to stop.

"Yes, why?"

She smiled at the confusion in his tone. "You know me, I can't resist taking another look. I'll be at the scene for awhile, so if you need me..." Her voice trailed off as she entered the park.

"I can have Lucas finish up the autopsy, if you need my assistance."

She smiled again, knowing how much Henry liked going out into the field. "C'mon, Henry." She said, beckoning him to join her.

"You know I love a good mystery," Henry said, laughing. "I'll be there in a moment, Detective."

"Alright; see you then," At that, she hung up the phone and came toward the wooded area, where the victim was found. If she hadn't known, Jo would never have guessed a murder took place here. Time moved on without a hitch. Thoughts of the task at hand filled her mind, and she began searching for any clues to who their John Doe was. Whoever he was, she was certain she would find out.


	4. Chapter 3

Henry scanned the park, looking for his partner. It took him a few moments, but he finally saw her walking into a line of trees. He smiled as he moved closer to her, as he could see the determined look on her face. Jo Martinez took her job very seriously, and it was one of the things he admired about her. No matter how difficult the case, justice would be done and peace would be brought to the victim's family.

"Hey, Henry," She said, catching a glimpse of him.

He nodded, placing his hands behind his back. "Detective."

"I just finished looking over the crime scene, and I'm disappointed. There doesn't seem to be anything unusual that could lead us to the identity of our victim."

"Hmm," He said, pausing. "Maybe you need a fresh pair of eyes."

With that, Henry walked into the wooded area. His eyes immediately moved from the more open spaces to those areas one might miss. The ones densely populated with ferns and overgrowth. While he believed the crime techs perfectly capable of finding evidence, he still believed they missed something.

His search lasted for around twenty minutes, before he noticed something strange. On one of the trees was carved an intricate heart. The detail was quite astounding – he had never seen anything like it. The heart curved inward, and coming from all sides of it were swirling lines. It was as if the heart was breaking, getting ready to burst into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Jo," He said, beckoning her over to him. "Take a look at this."

She walked over and leaned down to see what he was pointing at. Her eyes widened a little in surprise. "Wow. That's beautiful."

Henry nodded. "It is, but that isn't what puzzles me. Take a closer look."

Leaning down further, her eyebrows knit together as she studied it. "J.T."

He nodded again. "Whoever carved this either left their initials, or the initials of the person they carved it for."

"Wait a minute," She exclaimed, putting her hand out to touch it. A sticky substance appeared on her fingers. Standing up straight, she looked over at Henry. "Does that look like blood to you?"

His eyes widened. "It most certainly does, Detective. Could it be possible?"

Jo smirked at his astonishment. "I believe we found our killers signature. And I would pay good money to bet the blood is our victims."

Henry suddenly moved away from Jo, and walked toward the entrance of the woods. Looking around, he took careful steps to reenact the scene. "Our victim is walking by the woods. The killer is already hidden among the trees. He or she lures the victim far enough in that no one would see them together." He paused, taking a few steps and stopping where the body was found. "John Doe stops here and the killer strikes, giving one swift jab of the knife. Once he is dead, they come over to this tree," He walks over the Jo's side again. "and carves this heart with the same knife used to kill our victim."

"Let's say I'm the killer," Jo said. "I'm taking a big risk sticking around after I just killed a man. Especially to carve something into a tree. I mean, look at this," She points at the heart. "It must have taken the killer a good half hour to finish this, if not more time."

"This is goes much deeper than a random kill. Whoever our killer is, they're out for revenge of some kind."

"And if it's revenge they are after," She said pausing. "This won't be their last kill."

* * *

"Sounds like the killer is a woman."

Abraham had listened to his father go on for the last half hour about his latest case. There didn't seem to be much he didn't know now about the case. Their formerly John Doe had a name – Cameron Klinger. He was fresh out of college and going to play baseball for a minor league team. His whole life was ahead of him. They had collected his blood from the tree and bits of bark as well, hoping they might find something that could lead them to the killer. Unfortunately, nothing turned up.

"What did you say?" Henry asked, looking up from his meal.

"I said, 'It sounds like the killer is a woman.'"

"Why do you say that?"

Abe stood up, taking his empty plate and putting it into the sink. "Because would a man truly spend the time to carve such a detailed piece of art on the tree?"

"That is stereotypical of you, Abraham," He said, giving his son a look.

"I'm just being honest," He said with a shrug. "While it is possible a man could have carved it, I would bet on the killer being a woman. You said the victim was stabbed once in the heart, and that's it?"

Henry nodded.

"Stabbed in the heart; a broken heart carved in a tree; sure sounds like an act of revenge against a former lover."

The idea bounced around in Henry's mind long after their conversation was over. One stab wound to the heart was an unusual way to be murdered. Not that they hadn't seen it before, but usually when someone was stabbed, it was multiple times. And in order for someone to carve such a intricate heart, they would need a firm, yet delicate touch. The old adage, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,"1 popped into his mind. If this killing was indeed done by a woman jilted by her lover, then it's quite possible she may kill again.

* * *

Jo yawned before taking another sip of her coffee. She had decided to get in early to continue with their latest case. Thankfully, their John Doe now had a name, and the pieces of this mystery could fall further into place. Turning on the monitor of her computer, she waited for the screen to light up. Within moments, Jo was typing away, doing as much research as she could on Cameron Klinger. It didn't take long for her to find information.

According to his various social media accounts, Cameron had just finished college and was using his summer for travel. Pictures flooded the screen of the young man on a beach in California and a wooded area somewhere in Maine. From what she gathered, he had family in both places. Detective Hanson had contacted the boy's parents yesterday evening to inform them of their son's death. Both Mom and Dad were devastated, and said they would cooperate in every way to help find their son's killer. It was quite the breath of fresh air having a family who was willing to cooperate. Not all family's were so forthcoming.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Jo to look up. Standing in front of her desk was Henry, with quite the smile on his face.

"Good morning, Henry," She said, smiling back at him. "You're looking quite...cheerful this morning."

"I have good reason to be," He said with a pause. "I believe I know the gender of our killer."

Jo sat up straighter in her chair. "Really? How?"

"Abraham," He said simply.

She smiled at the name. Though Henry, and the rest of the staff at the precinct, weren't allowed to discuss case information with anyone, she didn't mind that he told Abe. It was always good to have a fresh pair of eyes and ears to help, and Abe had become someone she cared about. He was practically family. "What did Abe have to say?"

Henry then began going into great detail of the conversation he had with his roommate. Every piece of information he could think of flew from his mouth, and more than once Jo had to cover her own to keep from laughing. He was incredibly excited, and well he should be. From what she heard, it made sense that the killer was a woman. They would need to broaden their search, and even consider looking into any past girlfriends of their victim.

"That roommate of yours is a smart one," Jo said, smirking at Henry. "I wonder where he gets it from."

For a moment, a startled look flickered across Henry's face. Confusion flashed in her mind, but she quickly dismissed it. There were many things she didn't know about her partner, and she suspected the look on face, which had disappeared so quickly, was just another mystery. She didn't have much time to dwell on it as she picked up the phone and dialed. She would see how willing they were to cooperate.

* * *

 _1: Quote by William Congreve_

* * *

 **Hello lovelies!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed the third chapter of this story. I'm already planning the climax of this story out in my head, and can't wait to write it! (Though, it won't be coming just yet). Anyway, thank you for all your favorites and comments, and overall support. Love you guys!**

 **God bless,**

 **LovedLik3WildFire**

 **John 3:16**


	5. Chapter 4

"Please, tell me you're joking."

The look on Jo's face was one of utter frustration and sad disgust. Henry had broken the news to her a few minutes into their conversation. She had come down to the lab to see what progress he had made over the weekend. Unfortunately, the body of their victim wasn't giving them any more answers. He did everything he could think of, but it was no use. They were at a dead end.

That is, until Henry came in early that morning.

He had been sitting at his desk, looking over some paperwork when the phone rang. It was quite early for someone to be calling him, so when he picked up, he wasn't surprised to hear the Lieutenant's voice. She was the only person who called his office this early in the morning. Her voice was tainted with a familiar sadness Henry had come to recognize. There was only one thing that caused Lieutenant Reese to sound that way.

Another murder victim.

"I would never lie about this, Jo." He said, sounding harsher than he intended.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know; I'm sorry. It's just..."

She didn't need to finish her sentence; Henry knew exactly what she was feeling. Murder victims were hard for all of them, but each person at the precinct had learned to keep their emotions in check. There was a certain amount of emotional attachment someone could have for the victim and their families. Anything beyond that brought you into territory difficult to return from. But when another person died at the hand of the same killer, the emotions burst forth from their chamber, ignoring all the rules. Your heart was in it completely, and the only thing to heal it was to solve the murder.

Henry decided to break the silence between them by showing Jo the evidence. Walking her over to the victim, he knelt down and lifted up the victim's right arm. Looking up at Jo, he did his best to sound professional. "The heart isn't as intricate as the one we saw last week, but based on the shape and design, I'd say we have a serial killer on our hands."

"Are you sure it's the same person?" Jo asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.

He nodded, before lifting up the left arm of the victim, revealing their wrist. "The initals are right here."

The letters J.T. were carved into the skin, exactly as they had been in the tree. Henry looked up at Jo again, to see her expression. There were lines creased in her forehead that had not been there a minute ago, and her mouth was turned downward. It was the fatigue in her eyes, however, that made him stand up and move closer to her.

"Jo," He said, his voice soft. "Are you alright?"

She looked up at him and smiled weakly. "I just hate when this happens."

He nodded once, but continued to look at her. There was more to the story than simply being upset about the turn in the case. Henry had been Jo's partner and friend for awhile now, so he could pick up on the subtleties other people couldn't. Yes, something more was bothering her, and he was going to make sure she knew she could count on him to be there.

Just as he was about to say something on the matter, Detective Hanson called them both over to the body. "Doc, can you take a look at this?"

Henry knelt back down and looked where Hanson was pointing. Sitting on the top of the victim's left arm was a single piece of hair. It was a shining silver color that didn't match the hair of the victim. He carefully plucked it up and placed it in an evidence bag.

"I think we have found our killer," He said with confidence.

Jo's eyes lit up slightly at his words, causing the fatigue to fade. "You think the hair is from our killer?"

Henry smiled at the hope in her voice. "Don't get your hopes up to high, Detective. I said, 'I think we found our killer.' The hair could simply be from someone who passed by him on his way to work, or the hair of someone he is close to." At the sight of disappointment in her eyes, guilt panged at his heart. "But if this is the killer's hair...we've got 'em, Jo."

She smiled weakly, before looking down at the body. "I truly hope so."

* * *

Jo ached to know the results from the strand of hair they found. It was going to be difficult to retrieve DNA from the strand, especially if the strand didn't contain the actual hair follicle. There had been plenty of times where Henry broke the unfortunate news to her, when a hair sample was useless.

"Jo."

She looked up from the cup of coffee she was pouring herself in the break room. Hanson was standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall. She smiled at him. "Hey, Hanson."

"You okay?"

Jo nodded. "Yeah, I'm just waiting for the news from Henry."

He nodded and walked over to her, to pour himself a cup of coffee. "I'm sure he'll have news soon, but I wasn't asking about what you were waiting for. What I meant was, are you okay?"

She knew exactly what he was talking about. Her wedding anniversary was this week – Friday, to be exact – and the closer she came to that day, the hard it was. This wasn't the first anniversary she spent as a widow, but that didn't mean it wasn't difficult. Looking up at him, Jo did her best to look as if it wasn't phasing her. "I'm fine, really."

He looked at her a moment, unconvinced. But it was too late to say anything, as Henry came walking in. He seemed quite breathless, as if he raced from the lab to the break room. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked up at Jo and grinned. "I have some good news."

Jo put her coffee cup down on the counter. "What is it, Henry?"

He paused again, building up the anticipation. "I just finished the autopsy on our second victim, and I was astounded. Whoever killed this person didn't leave a single mark on him – aside from the carvings in his wrist – just like the first victim. There is no sign of a struggle, just like our first victim. And when I compared the two autopsies, I found a startling discovery."

"What's that?" She asked, eager to hear what he had to say.

"I did a bit of research, and found our victims are almost exactly alike in their lifestyles. Everything is similar, from their appearance to their daily life. Jet black hair and dark brown eyes; average build with defined muscle tone; recent graduates." He paused a moment to catch his breath again. "But it gets better. I was able to extract DNA from the hair we found on victim number two. Thankfully, the follicle was still intact. You won't believe who it belongs to."

Jo groaned in frustration. "Tell us already!"

Henry laughed at her impatience. "The hair belongs to a eighty three year old woman named Harriet Gransen."

"What?"

He nodded. "That's right; an eighty three year old woman. I decided to check up on her before coming down here. Apparently, she is quite the artist. You will never guess what her art features."

Jo's eyes widened. "Broken hearts."

They had done it. They had found the killer and it was all thanks to Henry. With all the evidence piled up against her, it would be simple to make an arrest. The shock of their killer's age and identity remained as Jo drew up the warrant. Never in a million years would she have imagined the killer to be an elderly woman. It was a rare occasion, having a killer be so old, and a woman no less.

This was going to be quite the interrogation.

* * *

 **Hello Readers!**

 **Hopefully, you are enjoying the story thus far. It may seem like the case is progressing fast, but you'd be surprised at what can happen? :D**

 **Until next time!**

 **LovedLik3WildFire**


	6. Chapter 5

The sound of the clock ticking behind her enveloped her. Jo had been standing behind the two way mirror for twenty minutes just staring. Detective Hanson had brought their suspect – Harriet Gransen – in an hour ago. She had been nothing but cooperative and didn't look anything like a killer. Her frame was small, and she walked with a slight limp. Age covered every part of her, yet her eyes were bright and alive. She looked more like Jo's loving Grandmother than a serial killer. This couldn't be who they were looking for.

"You ready, Jo?"

Jo looked over to see Hanson had come in. "Yes, I'm ready. I was just..." Her voice trailed off, uncertain of how to explain herself. How could she tell him she didn't believe this was their killer, despite all the evidence?

He nodded. "I know."

Before she knew it, Jo was sitting down across from Harriet, smiling softly. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mrs. Gransen."

She shook her head. "No need to apologize, Detective. You seem to be quite busy around here."

She laughed softly. "Yes, we are." There was a pause in the small talk, signaling to Jo that it was truly time to begin. "Mrs. Gransen -"

"Please, call me Harriet."

"Harriet, we've been conducting an investigation involving two murders, both by the same person. Our first victim hasn't given us any clue as to what happened to him, but the second victim did. We found a strand of your hair on the second victims arm, just below the wrist."

Not a trace of fear was behind her eyes; only an eerie calm. "That's odd."

Jo paused a moment before showing Harriet a photograph of the two victims. "Do you know either of these men?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Detective."

"I hear you're an artist," She said, trying to keep the conversation light and unaccusatory. Even if Harriet did murder their two victims, she didn't want to spook her.

A brightness appeared in her eyes. "Oh yes. My first love is painting, but I'm also very fond of sketching as well."

"What do you enjoy painting or sketching the most?"

Again, not a single hint of fear. "I love painting scenery; primarily mountain scenes. As for sketching, I enjoy portraits."

Jo hesitated before asking the next question. "Do you do any carving?"

"No, but my husband used to," She said, her voice steady.

"Thank you for answering my questions. I have a few more, but I need to take care of something first."

"Take your time, Detective."

* * *

Detective Hanson couldn't believe how smoothly the first round of interrogation went. Jo had been firm, yet polite with the woman, and she had taken every question in stride. Her answers were given calmly, and without hesitation. Something wasn't right.

Just then, Jo came in looking rather defeated. She looked up at him and sighed. "That went...incredibly well."

"To well?" He asked.

She shook her head slightly. "I don't think so...but I truly don't know. Her husband...is he still alive?"

Hanson shook his head. "Nope. Died three years ago from a heart attack."

"Well, that rules him out."

The door flew open to reveal Henry, holding a cup of coffee in his hand. He smiled at them both. "I'm back, and I have an idea!"

He laughed at the M.E.'s eagerness. "What's your big idea this time, Doc?"

Henry looked over at Jo and grinned. "I heard the entire conversation, and something isn't right. Mrs. Gransen was far too calm for someone who was just brought in on suspected murder charges. She's lying."

Jo rolled her eyes. "And how, exactly, are you going to prove that?"

"With coffee."

She reached a hand out to stop him from leaving right away. "The last time you brought a drink into the interrogation room, you seriously injured a man."

He sighed. "Trust me; I know what I'm doing."

Jo looked over at Hanson, who just shrugged. "Fine. But please, be careful."

"Aren't I always?" He said with another grin.

* * *

Henry set the coffee cup down on the table, and smiled at their suspect. "My name is Henry Morgan. Jo asked me to finish up her questions."

Harriet returned the smile. "Hopefully I can answer them all."

"I'm sure you will be able to."

With that, Henry and Harriet began a long, detailed conversation about her husband. He had served two years in the Korean War, and had come home to a life of difficulty. His leg had been blown off by a land mine, so he was learning to deal with this new limitation. Not to mention the mental scars inside of him. Nightmares plagued him for years, causing him to retreat within himself. It wasn't until a new neighbor moved in next door that things began to change.

Mr. Gransen and Daniel became fast friends, and Daniel taught him the trade that helped bring him out of his own head. It was obvious that Mr. Gransen was a natural at wood carving, and eventually made a business out of it – partnering with his neighbor to make quite a sum of money.

"When did you lose your husband?"

She looked up at him, smiling weakly. "Two years ago. I do miss him dearly."

"I lost someone dear to me many years ago, so I understand that deep ache."

"She must have meant a great deal to you," She said, her voice gentle. "Your eyes lit up a little at her mention."

As much as Henry hated to using his dead wife to get to the truth, he saw an opportunity in mentioning Abigail. "Yes, she truly did."

At those words, he looked down quickly and moved his hands into his lap, purposely passing them by the coffee cup. He had hit his target, and watched as the cup spilled the hot coffee toward Mrs. Gransen. Much to his delight, the cup rolled off the table, causing some of it's contents to spill on the floor as well.

"I am so sorry," Henry said jumping up, trying to sound as concerned as possible.

Mrs. Gransen stood up quickly, so as to not get coffee in her lap. "It's quite alright, dear." She looked down at Henry, who had bent down to pick up the coffee cup. "Let me help you clean this up."

He smiled and thanked her, but wasn't paying attention to the mess in front of him. He was looking at her hands. "Those look like the hands of a hard working woman."

She looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"Your hands; they are quite calloused."

Henry watched as the calm demeanor their suspect had faltered slightly. The calm they had all seen prior to this moment wasn't as calm as it once was, and he listened carefully as she tried to explain, her voice slightly edgier. "I do plenty of work in the garden, when I'm not painting."

"Really? From what our officers said, you don't have a lot of room in your yard for gardening." Neither Hanson or Jo mentioned anything of the sort, but he wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away.

Another layer of her calm vanished from her face. "They must be mistaken."

"That's odd; our officer's aren't usually wrong about these things." He said, pausing a moment before giving the final blow. "But maybe we could ask J.T. and see what he says about it."

It was this calm, yet simple mention of J.T. that brought the final piece of her charade to the ground. The crash was quite anticlimactic, if you were watching from afar. But as Henry sat back down in his chair, he was astounded by the change. Mrs. Gransen's eyes burned with an anger he hadn't seen in a long time. A smile like that of the Joker's crept across her face, as she eased herself back into her chair.

"Well played, Dr. Morgan," She said, her voice cutting through him like a knife. "Well played."

* * *

 **Hello lovelies!**

 **Here's another chapter for you; kind of a cliff hanger, and to be honest, I can't wait to dive deeper into Mrs. Gransen's head via the next chapter. You guys are gonna love it. :D**

 **Until next time!**


	7. Chapter 6

Jo couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Henry Morgan had taken this sweet old lady and revealed a side of her she never would have suspected was there. She kicked herself for allowing Harriet's pleasant demeanor to cloud her judgment. Moving closer to the two way mirror, she waited for their conversation to continue, hanging on every moment.

"Well played, Doctor Morgan; well played."

Henry sat back in his chair, as if forced their by the sheer change in her voice. "You think this is game?"

"Isn't it?" She said, her voice dripping with malice.

He was silent for a moment, and Jo wished he would say something. Thankfully, the silence lasted only a moment and her wish was granted. "You told Detective Martinez you didn't know the two men she showed you. Were you telling the truth?"

Harriet nodded. "Yes; I didn't know them. But that doesn't mean I didn't kill them – you don't need to know a person to take their life." Her face suddenly was draped with sadness. "You can know someone forever and realize they never were real."

Henry leaned forward, putting his arms on the table. "So, this was an act of revenge?"

Her eyes shot up at him, and the anger was back. "Revenge? Ha. That's a funny word for it."

"Why?"

"I was simply taking what was rightfully mine."

Jo could feel a full confession coming on and she quickly moved to intercept Henry. Pushing the door open slowly, she tried to remain calm and collected as she pulled another chair up to the table. He looked over at her, to gauge whether his presence was no longer needed, but she shook her head. She wanted him here with her – he was her unofficial partner after all.

Harriet smiled sweetly at Jo. "Hello again, Detective. Have you taken care of what you needed to?"

She nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Shall we begin then?" She said after a moment. "You came back to hear my confession, I presume. And don't you worry your pretty little head – you'll get it."

Henry chimed in. "Get to it then."

Jo was surprised by the anger in his voice, but she didn't let on to it. Instead, she listened carefully to Harriet Gransen's story. It was one of saddest and shocking as she gave detailed descriptions of not only the two victims, but the other men she had killed. Too many to count. The murders first started when she was twenty three.

At the age of sixteen, Harriet had met and fallen in love with a wealthy twenty year old name Jaxson Triplett. Their courtship was a whirlwind – full of dates that were beyond extravagant. No expense was considered when it came to making her happy. Within six months, Jaxson and Harriet were married, and everything was more wonderful than she could have dreamed. The dream, however, came crashing down when she discovered Jaxson had a secret.

He had been having an affair with another woman one month into their dating relationship. In fact, he had been cheating on her with three women. The only reason Harriet found out was a late night trip to the grocery store. She was three months pregnant with their first child and the cravings often sent her to find food, even if it meant going out. After picking up a couple packs of graham crackers, Harriet decided to walk home. Just as she rounded the corner, she saw Jaxson's car parked in an alley. Fear gripped her heart. What if he had been robbed? Or worse? Taking a closer look, her hand flew to her mouth in shock. Sitting in the back seat was Jaxson and another woman, entangled in one another.

"That scoundrel didn't know how good he had it until I caught him." She said, sounding proud of herself.

"You didn't." Henry said, sounding pained.

Harriet laughed once. "I did. It was tragic, really, dying so suddenly and so young too."

"How many?" Jo asked, gripping the pen in her hand a bit too tightly.

She scrunched up her face before answering. "Please, Detective, you think I am so crass as to count? But, if you need an answer, I would guess at least 30."

There was a long pause in the conversation before Jo decided to end this. "Harriet Gransen, you are under arrest for the murder of Cameron Klinger and God knows how many other men."

* * *

Henry could tell that Jo was shaken up by the conversation she had just witnessed. He wasn't surprised when she finally came in and finished up what he started. Taking a back seat in the interrogation wasn't a big deal to him. Jo had a way of sealing the deal like no one else could. So, he wasn't surprised, after Harriet gave them an estimate of the number of men she killed, that she was done with this nonsense.

"Harriet Gransen, you are under arrest for the murder of Cameron Klinger and God knows how many other men."

He stifled a smirk at the attitude in her voice, as pride swelled in his heart. Seeing Jo in her element was something Henry thoroughly enjoyed. There was no doubt in his mind this is where she was meant to be. Nothing could tear her away from this.

Once Harriet was taken into custody and moved to another part of the precinct, Henry turned toward Jo, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Wait a minute."

She looked down at his hand and then back up into his eyes. "What?"

He grabbed her elbow and led her into a deserted hallway. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, I'm alright."

He looked at her, unconvinced. "Jo."

She shook her head, before leaning up against the wall, eyes closed. "It's just...she had no remorse for what she's done to countless men and their families. It was like all her actions were entitled to her, because of the struggle she faced."

Henry nodded. "I know, but remember, she's not going to kill another person. She'll be convicted and people will be safe." He paused a moment as a smile crept on his face. "You did it, Detective."

"We did it," She said grinning. "C'mon. Let's get back. I want to see Harriet get her mugshot taken."

* * *

 **Hello Lovelies!**

 **And we have our killer! Almost.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **I love leaving cliffhangers.**


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